Barney's, Bloomingdales, Bergdorf Goodman and Saks Fifth Avenue - the words take on a rap-like rhythm and in the town where hip-hop was born, these iconic department stores draw shoppers, browsers and the curious from around the world.
Fashion clout is one of their shared drawcards.
And for fashion followers, there's a fair chance of overdosing given the extraordinary selection of designer collections that each store stocks.
The displays reach out into the distance of their huge floorspaces.
Gleaming signs announce each collection.
They're all there: Chanel, Christian Dior, Giorgio Armani, Marc Jacobs, Ralph Lauren, Michael Kors, Versace, Jill Stewart, Jill Sander, Marnie, Caroline Herrera.
Junya Watanabe, Dries van Noten, Jean Paul Gaultier, Calvin Klein and the rest.
Young upstarts such as the label with the intriguing name "Boy.
By Band Of Outsiders" show the necessary depth that puts them among the giants.
The evening wear entrances.
It covers the spectrum of restrained '50s femininity through to the gloriously lavish.
Each store has ushered in fall, or autumn, ranges with gusto.
Tweeds and velvets, colourful florals with feathers or laser-cut leaves for detail are a foil for the pared down and precise silhouettes.
Caped jackets and funnel-collared furs have futuristic nuances.
In Barneys, we discover a Fendi 24-carat gold-treated chevron mink coat costing $US64,300.
Given that the NZ dollar was worth about US55c that day, we felt a degree of awe.
A Nina Ricci astrakhan jacket at $12,590 is another little gem.
And this is after we've been mesmerised by the array of designer handbags - still big, blowsy, sheen-finished and with copious buckles.
And the footwear, high boots, low boots tricked with studs, buckles or sleekly plain and shoes showing highly elevated platform soles and dizzying high heels. Metallic finishes juxtapose with soft suede and traditional leather; fringing, studs and buckles dress up many styles; stilettos continue to have a place.
And footwear designer extraordinaire Manolo Blahnik reigns supreme.
It's exhilarating, giddying and possibly just a teensy bit sobering for those of us who do not enjoy six-figure incomes.
Visiting these luxury stores with three schoolfriends proves a revelation.
Two have lived in the US for more than 40 years; the other is from Wanaka, so there's a chance some will pick the Kiwi accents.
"So, where are you from?" asks a sales consultant in the venerable store Bergdorf Goodman.
"New Zealand."
"Oh, how I'd love to visit New Zealand."
It's a catch cry heard often.
All the consultants are gracious and welcoming.
It is, in fact, a strange time, this third week in October, to be salivating over the best of the best designers' offerings first-hand, given that just down the road Wall Street has stumbled hugely, leaving the economy in total disarray.
The fashion industry is getting a bit of a bad rap, either because of or exacerbated by the current situation.
Take the Chanel Pavilion that opened in Central Park on October 20, the day after we toured the park.
Designed by Iraqi-born architect Zaha Hadid, who now lives in London, the pavilion displays artworks that were inspired by Chanel's quilted chain-strap handbag, an iconic accessory in the fashion world.
Writing in the New York Times on October 21, Nicolai Ouroussoff was tetchy about the installation on the pretty park site for which Chanel had paid $400,000.
"It's not just that New York and the rest of the world are preoccupied by economic turmoil, although its timing could hardly be worse.
"It's that the pavilion sets out to drape an aura of refinement over a cynical marketing gimmick.
Surveying its self-important exhibits, you can't help but hope that the era of exploiting the so-called intersection of architecture, art and fashion is finally over."
But reinforcing the fact that the fashion industry very definitely has a place within popular culture, Robin Givhan in the Washington Post a couple of days later put Sarah Palin's $150,000 makeover firmly in perspective"If politicians weren't so snide and dismissive of fashionistas, the McCain-Palin campaign wouldn't be in the awkward position of having to explain the $150,000 tab," she said.
Her argument is that to sell someone as a no-frills hockey mom by wardrobing her in clothes from Neiman Marcus - a store occasionally referred to by frugal shoppers as "Needless Markup" - along with top-notch Barneys and Saks Fifth Ave, stores of the elite, is ill-advised and ill-informed.
"Fashion," she wrote, "is a form of self-definition. Any retail expert can tell you that part of being a good merchant is finding a way of speaking to who the customer believes herself to be."
She pointed out that Mrs Palin's clothes, no matter what the cost, were neither ostentatious nor eccentric, but were simply bought in the wrong stores (for Palin) at the wrong price.
"In our culture, Neiman Marcus stands for 'elite', not for `Everyman'. The same is true of Saks."
As a counterbalance is the surfacing of "recessionistas" and "recession chic", which is all about the searching for designer wear at discount prices.
Many designers have evidently made deals with discount stores in order that falling stock prices and rising electricity bills do not get in the way of wardrobes.
But the fabulous upmarket stores that have contributed so much over the years to the important garment industry of their city will also endure.
They are places to be celebrated and enjoyed even if their wares are out of reach for most of us.
And like New York they're dynamic and generous places where staff graciously accommodate those of us who are "Just browsing, thank you".
